


A Study in Magic

by thatonedudewiththename (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Magic, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thatonedudewiththename
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soldier Healer John Watson is back from the Corps after being Roughted in combat. He runs into an old pal and discovers that he's not the only one in need of a flat share. Magic!lock AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Magic

**Author's Note:**

> For insouciantchthonian on Tumblr. The second half of their Winterlock Exchange gift. Hope they like it!

John Watson, Soldier Healer, grimaced at the black rain beginning to fall from the clouds above the Sky City of Londonia Aeroportia. He pulled his dull tan cloak closer around his shoulders to block out the harsh wind and cover the left side of his face, quickening his pace in the direction of the Avrotube 428 to Lower Londonia, Healer Quadrant. "John!" A voice cried in the wind.  
John frowned, turning around in the direction of the voice.  
"John! Over here!" Above the heads of the crowd, a hand stuck in the air and waved. "John!"  
"Mike Stamford?"  
Stamford had a bright smile on his face, his cloak and Marking equally as so. He had both of his hands in the air waving wildly, drawing attention to both of the Healers that John did not want. Head down, he walked stiffly through the crowd over to Stamford and greeted him. "Hello again, Mike."  
"Ah, you do recognise me, then!" Stamford put his arm through John's and led him into the Avrotube 428. "Lunch?" He offered.  
John sighed; he wasn't hungry, but he didn't want to be rude... "Hah, yeah, sure."  
They walked to the dining section and sat at a booth on opposite sides. The surface of the table lit up with menus, a speaker in the wall saying in a cheery unisex voice, "Welcome to the Diner of the Avrotube 428! It is lunchtime currently, which means Healers and Soldiers eat for only 13 coins. Long live Londonia Aeroportia and our Queen Magicia!"  
"Long live Queen Magicia," John mumbled and Stamford exclaimed. They then selected their meals (John just choosing a Purple Winder) and then began on their small talk.  
"So, John, what happened to you being in the Corps and getting Rought at?" Stamford asked.  
"I uh," John pulled down the collar of his cloak to reveal a bright pink scar over his left eye and a large burn mark on his shoulder, "I got Roughted."  
"Oh," Stamford's voice faltered a tad bit. Neither noticed their drinks and meal float onto their table. "Well, how are you these days? I bet they got you put up in a very nice flat for such a decorated Soldier Healer as yourself. The Corps are in your debt during this war with the Surface."  
"No, actually, I'm not."  
"Well, why not get a flatmate?"  
John snorted through his nose, taking a sip of his Purple Winder. "Who would want me as a flatmate?"  
Fork halfway to his mouth, Stamford stopped and laughed. "You're the second person to say that to me today."  
"Really? Who was the first?"  
Stamford finished the small meal he had ordered while questioning, "Would you care to stop at St. Bartholomew's Healing Centre?"

...

The Healing Centre had seen better days; the budget for it and other Centres like it had been cut in order to fund the Protector Force, but regardless St. Bartholomew's stood proud. John and Stamford walked inside and to the Investigatory Magic lab, whereupon they entered and stopped near the front. The only other person there was a tall, thin-faced and high-cheekboned man with a fantastic, flowing robe of two different satin Stripes; dark blue on the edge of his sleeves, dark purple on the top of his wide collar. A gold circlet was around his forehead and a shining purple Face Crystal on his left cheekbone below his eye, the eyebrow above it sporting a gold ring piercing. A mass of curly black hair was atop his head, two braids with blue and purple beads sticking out on the left. Bright, glowing, pale blue eyes shone out at them when they entered. John would have said that he was a powerful magi or warlock, but there were no Symbols or Amulets on his cloak or collar. When he stood from his crouched position over a book on a desk near the back, his posture was straight, shoulders back, hands clasped behind him, head held high. John was confused; never before had he seen an Unmarked with such high self-esteem and worth, and never one with both sides of his bottom lip pierced and a Magic Sygle - the design on the right side of his face - as well as a Face Crystal. He strode swiftly over to the bookshelf to his right and used TeleKe to take out about half a dozen books and flip through them. "I hope you don't mind that I play the violin at odd hours and don't talk for days on end." He said in a commanding tone.  
"What?" John questioned.  
"Potential flatmates should get to know the worst of each other before they move in together."  
"I don't-"  
Stamford butt in with introductions. "This is John Watson, a-"  
The magi (warlock?) turned swiftly on his toes while cutting Stamford off, "Corps or Force?"  
"How did you...?" John frowned.  
"Answer, please."  
"Corps."  
"Oh? But you don't wear your medals, a total of five, yes? So, high-ranking, but you don't want anyone to know that you were in the Corps. However, your posture says Soldier, but your Magic Sygle says Healer. You cover the left side of your face, and since you're out of the Corps early I say you were Roughted."  
John shifted uncomfortably, but not at this strange man's talk. This movement made the man start up again with raised eyebrows. "Oh, Roughted twice, though there was a different type of damage the second time," he squinted slightly and a flicker of a smile crossed his hard face, "your Crystal."  
"How, could you possibly-did you tell him about me?" John turned to Stamford, who had his usual small smile on his lips.  
"Not a word," He replied.  
"Simple, really." The man started for the second exit. "Meet me in the Healer Quadrant in Upper Londonia, the Avrotube 753."  
"Wait, that's it? We just met and now we're going to look at a flat together? I don't even know the address or your name!" John shouted after him.  
The man popped back through the doorway. "The name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street." He winked and left.  
Bewildered, John looked toward Stamford, who nodded and told him, "Yeah, he's always like that."

...

221B Baker Street in Upper Londonia was a nice place, a lot nicer than John could ever afford. He hoped that this Sherlock character had enough money.  
Arriving at the front door, Sherlock fell into step beside him. "Ah, Mr. Holmes-" John held out his hand to shake.  
"Sherlock, please," Sherlock shook the proffered hand with a smile. He opened the door for John, and they entered the building. Up the stairs they went, and into a rather messy flat with junk scattered everywhere. But it was neat and lovely, and had a homey feeling that John hadn't realised he missed until now. "Oh wow," he commented, "yes, this could do very nicely. Once we get all this junk cleared out-"  
"-so I've already moved in-oh." Sherlock began and stopped.  
John cringed. Sherlock rubbed a hand through his curls and began to clean up. "Well, obviously, I can tidy things up a bit."  
Footsteps came up the stairs and stopped beside John. They belonged to a small old woman who had a nice motherly feel to her. She had no Magic Sygle, instead a pink Face Crystal on her forehead and a small cloak with dark pink Stripes signature of a baker and homekeeper. "I'm your landlady Mrs. Hudson. You must be John." She greeted.  
"Yes. Lovely to meet you." John shook her hand.  
"We've got two rooms if you'll be needing two." She went about cleaning up the kitchen, Sherlock having finished the sitting room.  
"Of course we'll be needing two, why wouldn't we?" John frowned.  
"Oh don't worry dear, we've got all sorts here." Mrs. Hudson replied.  
John pulled a face and turned back toward the sitting room. As he did, something upon the mantle caught his eye. "Is that a skull?"  
Sherlock twirled about and took it up. "Yes, he's a... friend of mine." He set it back down and went over to the window. "Make yourself at home, John."  
John sat with a sigh and rubbed his thumb over his Crystal with a wince. Mrs. Hudson spoke up from the kitchen, "So what of those murders, Sherlock? I thought those would be right up your alley, with the Reverse and all."  
"You mean those suicides?" John asked, shifting about to face Mrs. Hudson, "I didn't know the Protectors switched it to murder."  
"They didn't," Sherlock interjected, still facing the window. Lights flashed outside and there was a knock on the door. "And there's been a third."  
"I'll get it." Mrs. Hudson went down and answered the door, coming back up with a man in a Protector robe and Stripes, three Symbols on his robe and an Amulet on his collar; the Detective Inspector.  
"Sherlock-" He began.  
"Where?" Sherlock didn't turn to him.  
"West Marvin Gardens. Will you come?"  
"Not in a Protector Moniver, I'll follow behind."  
"Right then." The DI left.  
Once he had left in the Moniver, Sherlock swiftly turned in excitement. "Yes! Oh, it's Christmas. Finally, a murder. Mrs. Hudson, I won't be in for tea." He jumped into his boots and swished off.  
"Look at him, dashing about." Mrs. Hudson went around to the side of the chair John was sitting in. "Would you like some tea? I'll make you some tea, you rest your Crystal."  
"Damn my Crystal! Sorry, I am so sorry, it's just-" John threw it back down on his chest, "-this damn thing."  
Mrs. Hudson left for the kitchen. "It's alright dear, I understand. I've got a hip."  
"And some biscuits with the tea, if you don't mind."  
"Just this once dear, I'm not your housekeeper."  
John was alone in the sitting room, rubbing his temples, waiting for the tea when a deep voice resonated from the doorway. "You were a Healer in the Corps, yes?'  
Lifting his head, John turned it toward Sherlock, who stood in the door. "Yes, I was."  
"Any good?"  
John stood. "Hmm. The best."  
"Saw a lot of action?"  
"Far too much. Enough for a lifetime."  
Sherlock took a couple long steps forward. "Care to see some more?"  
"God yes."  
Sherlock turned on his heels and dashed off toward the steps with John following. "Raincheck on the cuppa, Mrs. Hudson, popping out!" John cried.  
"Look at you, Sherlock, smiling. It's not decent." The landlady appeared from her kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.  
Abruptly at the front door, Sherlock stopped and rolled his eyes. "Who has time for decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!"  
Swinging the door wide, Sherlock and John left out into the cool late evening air.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I should do the rest of A Study in Pink in this AU.


End file.
